The Meek And The Mighty
Bob Farrell
Tears are falling from her eyes
A weeping heart
A mournful cry
Church behind an iron veil
The persecuted bride bewails
And she longs
For her first taste of freedom
And she clings
To the strong hand of God
She is the meek and the mighty
Shining gold
Purified in the fire
She is the meek and the mighty
Flame of valor
Burning bright in the night
A gallant army of soldiers
Standing tall in her hour
She is the meek and the mighty
Centuries under domination
Tyrants' rule and tribulation
Oppressionists would bend her knee
To atheist philosophy
Yet her pains forged
In raiments of armor
Stands in battle but never alone